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posted on Jun, 23 2004 @ 04:14 AM
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A ciggerette and a solitary moment
A cloud and a Soaked wanderer
A gun and a dead mother
All as lonely as the other.

A match to a ciggerette
A n umbrella in the wind
A trigger head returned
All connected in the lesson
learned.

A truth and a lie
A choice and the sky
A reason to die
A guilty voice within us
cries.




posted on Jun, 25 2004 @ 06:47 AM
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Delve

or

reach,

Does your system

teach? Influence

idea

Individual

they always thought

like

almost clever

when we understand

it never

here we are more

than liars

abscond


[edit on 6/25/2004 by earthtone]



posted on Jul, 16 2004 @ 03:45 PM
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You are truely talented earthtone, i love your work so much. You have a gift my friend
i look forward to reading more



posted on Jul, 17 2004 @ 03:14 AM
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Infinite:

Thanks for reading friend







[edit on 7/17/2004 by earthtone]



posted on Jul, 25 2004 @ 02:35 PM
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Have you ever thought about getting your work published earthtone?? i believe its good enough too
as i said, you got talent



posted on Jul, 26 2004 @ 05:08 AM
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Well I have no idea how I would go about publishing. Sure I would love to actually make a book, that would be amazing, thanks alot for saying I'm good enough.



posted on Jul, 27 2004 @ 07:04 PM
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Originally posted by earthtone
Well I have no idea how I would go about publishing. Sure I would love to actually make a book, that would be amazing, thanks alot for saying I'm good enough.


no problem, there are loads of competition around each year which are looking for new poets like yourself. I'll find out more and U2U the info to you



posted on Jul, 28 2004 @ 01:26 AM
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Thanks alot infinite, really appreciate the help friend



posted on Aug, 8 2004 @ 05:25 PM
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Pretty heavy stuff, earthtone. Keep it up!



posted on Aug, 8 2004 @ 05:52 PM
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Its amazing stuff. After reading earthtones poems, i was inspired to post my own
keep up the excellent work

[edit on 8-8-2004 by infinite]



posted on Aug, 8 2004 @ 07:34 PM
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Copy your poems down on computor and then take them to a printing firm to be printed off. You could make them into a seris of mini poem books kinda studant style cheap n easy. My bro got his books done at uni thats he did all leather backed n quality paper to.



posted on Aug, 9 2004 @ 03:48 AM
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Interesting idea Se7en, thanks for the ideas! Infinite, I am really glad I have inspired you, thats is always great to hear. Just find your own voice Brudda'



posted on Aug, 20 2004 @ 03:35 PM
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Hey there earthtone,

I like the big words; they give me reason to pick up the dictionary.



posted on Aug, 20 2004 @ 04:19 PM
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Hey thanks. Not all the poems are as insanley complex don't worry, I had accidentaly swallowed a dictionary that day.



posted on Aug, 21 2004 @ 04:55 AM
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Hey! That comment needs to come with a "Do not try this at home" warning. My dictionary is looking very yummy right now.



posted on Aug, 21 2004 @ 07:51 AM
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Yeh, I know what you mean. Try it with a bit of mustard.



posted on Aug, 21 2004 @ 08:15 AM
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Why not take a step
over
to the other side.
A place where love and death collide.

I made the choice To visit here
Purgatory,
A place of fear.

Resolute to end these days
Masked by voices
Blurred with haze.

Spoken words are
hollow now.
The ones I never
say aloud.



posted on Aug, 21 2004 @ 06:10 PM
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I prefer mayo.

[edit on 8/21/2004 by Strianissa]



posted on Aug, 30 2004 @ 09:25 AM
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Lord?
Speak to me, recite verse after verse.
Hungry for an urban moment, wandering
The priest on the corner cursed at me
and the church fell down
and the stained glass cut.
Is that pain the holy spirit in my gut?

Crucify or crucifix.
These holy leaders pick up sticks
and pile up stones and build a wall
that seperates man because it's so tall.
Taller than the piles of money?
Enough to pay the starving in milk and honey

for what has been taken away.
What is still taken away.
Every word spoken to appease the masses.
Every life taken to appease the masses,
or to make their shoes.



posted on Oct, 27 2004 @ 05:18 PM
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And so it is taken and
it is given.
The baby screams for it's milk like
the sheets on his death bed,
made of silk.

A black canvas
and a black chalk
for those who cannot walk the walk

Blank cheque,
written out like a car wreck.
The liars speek with volume,
and reach so far,
they cannot tell you who you are.

Those who can are gone.
The ground cannot speek
not at six feet.




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